


Payback (With Interest)

by whatsup_buttercup



Series: omega spa day! [3]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alpha Victor Nikiforov, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Knotting, M/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Minor Phichit Chulanont/Christophe Giacometti, Omega Katsuki Yuuri, Peacocking Alpha, Service Alpha, Service Omega, Wingman Phichit Chulanont, Yuuri is a knotty boy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-21
Updated: 2020-08-21
Packaged: 2021-03-06 14:42:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,211
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26030596
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whatsup_buttercup/pseuds/whatsup_buttercup
Summary: Yuuri reaches out and grabs Viktor’s hand, pulling it to his chest. “If your rut’s soon, would you like to spend it with me?”Viktor’s very pretty mouth drops open in shock.Still caught by that strange and fleeting courage, Yuuri continues, “I’m not trained, or anywhere near as good as you, but I promise I’d try my best to make sure you have a good time.”
Relationships: Katsuki Yuuri/Victor Nikiforov
Series: omega spa day! [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1847818
Comments: 54
Kudos: 651





	Payback (With Interest)

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to Rainy and Charmed for beta-ing! And thank you to Clear for the knot pun.

Viktor kept his word and took Yuuri out for dinner, which was quite nice. They had such a lovely evening together, talking and getting to know more about one other, that Yuuri could secretly pretend it was a date.

They haven’t seen much of each other after that, which is a blessing and a curse for Yuuri’s terrible crush. Viktor is a very busy grad student doing graduate student things, and Yuuri has his own full schedule of training. It’s fine.

So what if he has been skipping all his scheduled and prepaid omega services?

 _I’ve been ruined for everyone else,_ he mourns, privately and pathetically, as he skates practice figures night after night.

“Yuuri, you can’t pout forever, come _on._ ”

World’s meanest roommate. “I’m not pouting.”

“Uh huh,” Phichit says. “Right, you’d never pout. How silly of me. So, since you’re not pouting at all in any way, you’re totally excited to go up to the lake house we rented, right?”

There’s a bit of a yearly tradition for skaters to go on a road trip to a beach area on Lake Michigan. Yuuri has always avoided it, mostly because he’s sure the freshwater shoreline would only serve to make him homesick for the real ocean. Now that Phichit’s here and determined to keep Yuuri from sulking alone, the trip is inevitable.

“So excited,” Yuuri agrees glumly.

Phichit ruffles his hair. “That’s the spirit.”

“There’s not much else to do with Celestino visiting family in Italy anyway.”

“The house we’ve rented has a hot tub and a sauna! Four bedrooms, two baths, a quick walk to the beach, we can order pizza and Celestino isn’t close enough to yell.”

Yuuri smiles. “That does sound good.”

“I knew food would cheer you up. Oh, and Chris invited Viktor too.”

* * *

The week before the trip goes at light speed, with Yuuri both dreading it and feeling quite excited.

There are some reasonable worries: will Yuuri immediately pop a boner the second he sees Viktor again, in some kind of desperate, Pavlovian reaction? Yuuri had stopped to smell some roses at a sidewalk florist stand last week and was forced to make a hasty retreat. That was just _flowers._

Time waits for no man and the Friday morning of their trip arrives bright and clear. Phichit had stayed over at Chris’s the night before — not unusual — so Yuuri found himself waiting with his suitcase and a very large cup of coffee on the steps of their building, alone.

His phone buzzes with a text. _Sorry, running late, we’ll catch up! Viktor will pick you up instead :)_

Traitor!

Before he can react, a very ridiculous pink convertible pulls up to their building, with Viktor at the wheel. The roof is down so by all rights his hair should be a mess, but instead it remains utterly flawless. He’s the actual most beautiful person in the entire universe, from his designer sunglasses to his sweet smile. “Yuuri! Long time no see!”

“Viktor!” Yuuri calls back, shifting awkwardly. When Viktor gets out to help wrangle his suitcase into the backseat, Yuuri can smell evergreens and roses again, and yes, his crotch instantly feels tight.

 _Don’t be creepy,_ Yuuri tells himself.

Viktor holds the door for him and Yuuri slides in gratefully. The leather seats are hot from the sunshine.

“It’s so good to see you,” Viktor says, as they pull out of the building’s lot. “The weeks up to graduation were so busy, but the gauntlet is finally over! How have you been?”

 _Pining hopelessly for you._ “They’ve been pretty slow, honestly, which is nice. It’s off-season and our coach is visiting his family in Europe.”

“From what Chris says, you and Phichit have such tight schedules during the season. I’m so glad we get to spend some time together. You were the light at the end of the tunnel for me, as I was pushing through the last of my degree work.”

Viktor’s such a naturally flirty guy. Yuuri tries not to melt and fails.

The drive is four hours and they chat the entire time. Yuuri doesn’t want to reveal his terrible crush, but he catches himself staring, dreamy-eyed, at Viktor’s talented hands on the steering wheel, or the beauty of his profile in the sunshine, and knows he isn’t doing a great job at it.

* * *

The lake house is impressive, and it’s a good thing Viktor was able to sign for the keys because as day turns into evening they get another text from Phichit and Chris. _Sorry guys, we had to take the car into the shop for some repairs. All fixed now, we’re on our way!_

Yuuri files this under _suspicious._

“Ah, that’s too bad,” Viktor says. “I know they were really looking forward to this.”

“Yes,” Yuuri agrees. “It’s too bad. At least they won’t miss the entire trip.”

Phichit and Chris won’t arrive until late in the night, if they’re just starting the drive now.

Viktor still has his phone out and starts to scroll, looking for dinner. “There’s a pizza place with high ratings down the road. Sound good?”

Pizza: delicious, decadent carbs. He imagines stuffing his face with Viktor watching to try and reign in the food lust. It helps, a bit. “Sounds good.”

“I remember that you usually get salads, and they have those too,” Viktor adds. “With good reviews!”

Yuuri blinks. Viktor’s right, that’s the only food he’s ordered around him before. He blushes at how thoughtful he is. “Good! Maybe I’ll have some pizza, too. Just a little.”

“As an athlete, I’d assume your calorie needs would be higher than the average person. Why hold back?”

“I’m an athlete, yes, but,” Yuuri bites his lip, “it’s the off-season right now, so I’m not as active as normal.”

“Right, right,” Viktor agrees, waving his hand. “Then, would you like to walk there instead of driving?”

“Yes! If you don’t mind, that is.” Yuuri feels cramped from the car ride.

“I don’t mind,” Viktor insists.

The evening they share together is far too lovely; Viktor is a natural flirt and Yuuri finds himself pretending that they’re out on a date. They return to the house late at night, full of pizza and pleasantly exhausted from the long walk.

* * *

Phichit and Chris are there when they wake up, and group activities with the rest of the skate club kick off in earnest. There’s a barbecue on the beach, and a tubing competition. With all the skaters, trainers, and various plus-ones, it’s easy to get lost in the crowd.

Yuuri notices that Viktor’s very, very pale skin is looking distinctly sunburnt towards the end of the day.

“Um, Viktor, did you put on sunscreen today?”

“Of course! UV radiation is no joke.” Viktor presses his finger onto his upper arm and watches the color change from the pressure. “....But I may have missed the reapplication timing.”

The burn is significant. Yuuri holds his hand a few inches away from Viktor’s skin and swears he can feel the heat coming off. He hisses in sympathy. “We should make a trip to the pharmacy to get you some aloe.”

Phichit claps him on the shoulder. “Good idea, Yuuri. Why don’t you take Viktor there while Chris and I figure out dinner?”

Maybe he’s just practicing wingman-ing on a difficult target.

Chris and Phichit are mysteriously absent when they return with sunscreen, and Viktor’s skin has only gotten redder. He immediately peels off his shirt once they’re in the door.

“Yuuuuri, would you be able to help me get this on my back and shoulders?”

Like he’s going to say _no_ to that! It’s a particular type of torture as Yuuri helps rub cool aloe gel over Viktor’s sculpted back, shoulders, and arms. Viktor sighs into his touch, as the aloe soothes his burn. Yuuri finds himself so painfully turned on that he has to retreat to his bedroom and forgo dinner at all.

Aloe is added to the list of dangerous scents for Yuuri, along with evergreens and roses.

* * *

The last night at the lake house calls for a giant bonfire on the beach. When the sun dips below the horizon, the party really takes off, with someone driving a car on the sand and pumping the music to max volume. Food and alcohol flow freely.

Viktor’s sunburn has healed a bit in the last few days, but he’s still adorably pink and slightly peel-y. Yuuri sits in the sand by the waves and watches him chat with Chris in the glow of the fire, chin in his hand.

“So, are you glad you came?” Phichit asks.

Yuuri’s social battery is running critically low. Still, he is glad he came. “Thanks for dragging me. And for your meddling.”

Phichit grins. “Thank me at your wedding, okay?”

Yuuri flicks a tiny spiral shell at him. “Very funny.”

Phichit flicks the shell back. “Hey, that’s a fair price!”

Before Yuuri can say that it’s pointless to argue about fictional weddings, someone sits down heavily in the sand next to Yuuri, uncomfortably close and smelling like alpha and beer. It’s hard to tell in the firelight, but he could be one of the speed skaters. Yuuri can’t think of his name, but he’s seen him around before. Kevin? Carl?

“Yuuuuuri~” He slurs. “Hey.”

Yuuri bobs his head with long-ingrained politeness. “Hello.”

Phichit sits up tall on Yuuri’s other side, tone turning distinctly unfriendly. “Hi, Kevin.”

“I just wanted you to know that you are very, very pretty.” Kevin says, struggling with every syllable and leaning in too close. He has curly brown hair and a square jaw.

Americans are always so much more ready to invade personal space. Yuuri doesn’t know what to say. He feels trapped.

Kevin seems undeterred from Yuuri’s lack of response and continues. “When we get back from this trip, we should go out to dinner! I found this cool sushi place, and you’re Japanese and sushi’s from Japan, so you’ll probably like it!”

Yuuri’s not a fan of giant mayo-covered American rolls, and less a fan of Kevin. He stands up. “Sorry, I don’t like sushi,” he lies.

Phichit stands up next to him. “Yes, we’re allergic. It’s tragic.”

Kevin, drunk as he is, doesn’t catch the clearly dismissive tone. He stands up too, grabbing into Yuuri’s arm to hoist himself up. “We could go somewhere else!”

The grip of his hands is _tight_. If Kevin was just a random asshole it’d be easier to shut him down; however, this is a rinkmate.

Kevin stares into Yuuri’s eyes with drunken friendliness, and Yuuri feels himself freeze up, conflicted on the right course of action. “I don’t—“ Yuuri starts.

The expression on Kevin’s face shifts suddenly, to almost-comical fear; wide eyes, a sharp inhale. He lets go of Yuuri’s arm and scrambles backwards in the sand.

He can smell it on the air before he turns: roses and evergreen.

Viktor’s behind him, looming over his shoulder in a way that shouldn’t be possible for someone who isn’t that much taller than Yuuri. His blue eyes are locked on Kevin’s retreating form, cold and hard. Yuuri breathes in, sharp; he’s never seen an expression like this on Viktor’s face.

“Some people can’t take a hint,” Phichit says. “Yuuri, you either need to stop being so cute or learn to turn down your many suitors.”

“He wasn’t a _suitor_ ,” Yuuri says, voice still faint. “Just a drunk trying to make friends.”

“Yeah, okay.”

Viktor doesn’t relax until Kevin fades from view, metaphorical tail between his legs. His pheromones leak out and saturate the air around them, protective and… angry? Viktor has _tight_ control over his scent always, so this is new and very strange.

“Viktor, are you okay?”

At his voice, Viktor blinks and seems to reorient himself. The tension in his shoulders ebbs, and he starts to tamp down on his scent. His eyes remain wild.

Phichit pats Yuuri’s shoulder lightly. “I’m going to go get Chris.”

“Okay,” Yuuri agrees.

Phichit bounds off closer to the firelight where Chris had been chatting with some friends earlier.

“Viktor?” Yuuri tries again. When he doesn’t get a response, Yuuri reaches out to cup his cheek.

That works. Viktor’s eyes close and he lets out a deep breath, leaning into Yuuri’s palm for a moment and then pulling away and hanging his head. “Yuuri, that was very inappropriate. I’m so sorry.” He backs up three steps.

“No, it’s okay! Thank you! He wasn’t taking a hint.” Yuuri rubs his arm absently.

“I didn’t mean to jump in when you had it under control already. My apologies.”

Even his scent is distressed. It’s so out of character that Yuuri has to ask, “Are you okay?”

Viktor laughs and runs his hand through his hair. “I’m perfectly fine, just embarrassed. You see, my rut is coming up and apparently no matter far I think those instincts are buried they, well. Have a way of popping up.”

“Nothing to be embarrassed about,” Yuuri insists. “I appreciate the help.”

It might be the firelight, or the fact that they’re alone. Viktor’s expression has settled back into composed beauty, but there's still tightness around his eyes.

Yuuri reaches out and grabs Viktor’s hand, pulling it to his chest. Blue eyes focus on his alone, attention caught. “If your rut’s soon, would you like to spend it with me?”

Viktor’s very pretty mouth drops open in shock.

Still caught by that strange and fleeting courage, Yuuri continues, “I’m not trained, or anywhere near as good as you, but I promise I’d try my best to make sure you have a good time.”

A moment passes, and then another without response.

The first wave of mortification crashes over Yuuri’s brain and floods him with regret. Stupid. So forward. He releases Viktor’s hand and looks for an exit. “Sorry, you can ignore me, I don’t want to impose—“

“No, no! I’d love to spend my rut with you, Yuuri,” Viktor says, cute blush returning over the bridge of his nose. “Very much. I just don’t want you to feel like we’re going too fast.”

Yuuri’s brow furrows. “We just spent my heat together.”

“I suppose that is true!” Viktor sounds positively cheerful. “Well then, thank you very much. I’m looking forward to it.”

* * *

Caring for an alpha during rut is a different ballgame than tending to an omega during heat. There’s a wider spectrum of presentation: some alphas take safety in control, and become aggressive and domineering while in rut. Others create bowers, and will go so far as to peacock and show off their wealth, skills, and appearance in hopes of pleasing a potential mate. Most alphas present a mix, in accordance with their personality and cultural upbringing.

And then there’s the knotting. It can be _very hard_ to convince an alpha to use a condom while in rut, as it is taken as a rejection. For that reason, along with the physical strain and recovery time needed post-rut, there aren’t as many service omegas as there are service alphas. Couples tend to figure out alternate forms of birth control.

Viktor treated Yuuri so very, very well during his heat and Yuuri is determined to return the favor. That’s why he takes an internet-fueled crash course in service omega-ing, makes sure his birth control is up to date, and watches how-to videos until his eyes glaze.

Then there’s the outfit.

It’s important to scent and be scented during a rut, but for unbonded pairs that want to remain unbonded afterwards, there are certain precautions. This leads to Yuuri dropping a few hundred dollars on _omegagear.com_ for a strappy black set of rut lingerie; durable mesh straps around his neck, wrists, and thighs that lock in place and are connected by a web of lace. The engineering is almost as complex as one of his skating costumes, and it leaves his chest, pelvis, and backside framed by lace and his scent glands protected.

It’s also an absolute terror to get on _and_ off; Phichit had to help him unlock the neck strap after a few agonizing hours of attempts. Yuuri’s going to be embarrassed about that until the day he dies. His best friend refrained from teasing and promised to mention it to no one.

They meet up at a coffee shop for the pre-rut interview. Viktor picked him up and drove them there in his ridiculous pink convertible; he was insistent about it, even with all the backtracking involved.

The coffee shop offers fresh, expensive pastries; Viktor ordered a full six of them for their two-person table and only seemed satisfied after Yuuri had finished one and was on to a second (a delicious fruit tart with plump strawberries, blueberries, and luscious cream).

“I’ve only had a partnered rut twice before,” Viktor explains, “and both of them lasted around three days.”

“Wow!” That’s on the outer edge of normal. Yuuri tries not to think of how sore he’ll be after three days of being knotted. “I mean, um, that should be fine.”

“I already have my sitter prepared to take care of Makkachin, so no need to worry about her.” Viktor takes a sip of his coffee; he’d got some kind of expensive pour-over the barista was excited to make.

Viktor’s only had a partnered rut twice before. Twice! For someone so beautiful and charming! Yuuri finds himself feeling a bit offended at the waste.

Viktor clears his throat. “I think it would be best if you started staying at my place a day or so before it begins, if you’re able to. I’m not the, shall we say, domineering alpha type, but I’ll take a certain measure of comfort before rut knowing you’re nearby and safe.”

Five entire days with Viktor? It sounds too good to be true. “Yeah, sure, I can do that.”

Viktor pushes a third pastry his way. “Thank you so much.”

“It’s my pleasure.” Yuuri accepts the pastry (chocolate and hazelnut, delicious), and vows to do extra cardio to make up for his sins. “Um, what’s your favorite food?”

“You know, I don’t think I have one,” Viktor replies. He seems really pleased that Yuuri’s enjoying the sweets he brought. “You mean for during rut? We’ll be far too busy to eat.”

Yuuri has to get his blush reflex under control. “I meant, um, for afterwards.”

“Ah. Then, something light is best; sugar and carbs.” Only now does Viktor select his own treat and take a bite. He better hurry up, because at this rate they’ll all be gone.

“Any allergies I should know about?” Yuuri asks.

“Not a one. Don’t stress yourself out too much about it. The important thing is that I’m spending it with you.” Viktor reaches out and brushes a crumb off Yuuri’s cheek.

* * *

Yuuri does stress himself too much about it; it’s the way he’s built. He places an order from the fancy sandwich shop near Viktor’s apartment to make a delivery towards the end of the three days, and keeps studying, determination fueling it all.

Viktor again picks him up, this time with his small duffle of supplies, and Phichit waves them off, grinning.

Viktor’s apartment is surprisingly subdued. The decor looks more like a high-end lifestyle photoshoot set than a lived-in space; it’s _nice_ and expensive, but apart from the few framed photos of a massive standard poodle it is starkly depersonalized.

Yuuri puts his shoes neatly alongside Viktor’s on the tidy little shoe rack in the entrance, and awkwardly shifts his duffle bag from side to side. Everything is immaculately clean but there’s only so much that can be done to hide an alpha’s scent pre-rut. Time does not dull Yuuri’s reaction to one bit.

Viktor takes him on a brief tour of the space. “You can set your bag in my room, if you like! Or the guest room. Whatever works best for you.”

Yuuri’s research taught him that it’s best to stay where the rut will take place. “Your room makes the most sense.”

Viktor’s bedroom is just as modern as the rest of the place, and indents in the rugs tell the tale of furniture recently moved. The bed is in Yuuri’s preferred nesting spot, near a wall. There are floor-to-ceiling windows everywhere and an excessive number of lamps.

“There are some heavy curtains, which we can pull out for privacy,” Viktor says, watching Yuuri’s face closely. “And I bought a few new blankets.”

The blankets are blue; purchased with Yuuri in mind. “Thank you, Viktor, this is beautiful.”

Viktor glows with pleasure at that; he’d worked hard on this immaculate bower. “Now all that’s left is to settle in. Are you hungry? Thirsty?”

An alpha determined to cater to Yuuri’s every need, Viktor offers him a drink, sits him on the modern blue couch in the living room, and starts fussing in the kitchen. Yuuri tries to decide when the best time to put on his lingerie is going to be, since it’s quite a process, when Viktor returns.

“Comfy? Is the tea okay? I remembered that you liked green tea, so I bought a few different kinds if that isn’t working.” Viktor is the caretaking type, pre-rut. That makes sense considering his degree.

“It’s delicious, thank you.” Yuuri’s mug of tea is perfectly brewed and already halfway empty.

“Wonderful. I brought you a few more sweets too, from the shop we went to the other day.” Viktor rearranges some of the pillows on the couch while he’s talking, fluffing them. Yuuri notices that his nails look even more polished than normal, with a clear coat of gloss and expertly rounded edges.

It feels nice, to be so attentively cared for; undeserved, but nice. “My coach is going to be so mad when he gets back from Italy and I’ve gained ten pounds.”

“What your coach doesn’t know can’t hurt him. Also, I am confident we’ll be able to work all those calories off,” Viktor grins, movie-star perfect. His beauty is _lethal_.

Eventually Viktor settles in next to him and they select a light romantic comedy to watch. Halfway through the movie, Viktor rests his arm over the back of the couch and Yuuri’s shoulder. He can feel the tempting warmth from mere inches away.

 _What am I doing?_ Yuuri laments. _This isn’t about_ me, _this is for_ Viktor. He takes a few steadying breaths, forcing confidence, and leans back against Viktor’s arm.

Invitation accepted, Viktor curls him in closer, scent turning happier. Bold, Yuuri shifts to cuddle into his warm, muscled side. The movie continues playing and though both their eyes are on the screen, he bets that neither of them are taking it in.

Viktor _strongly_ smells of rut, a dizzying blend layered throughout his normal scent. Yuuri’s not an expert, but he doesn’t think that he will last days, perhaps hours at most.

He likes close contact. _Ok,_ Yuuri thinks, _I can do that._ Before he can second guess, Yuuri worms his way closer, until he’s more in Viktor’s lap than the couch, lounging on firm muscles. How often does he work out? Is he a secret bodybuilder? Yuuri’s an athlete and nowhere near as sculpted.

Wrapped in a blanket of Viktor, he’s not even pretending to watch the movie anymore. Viktor’s pale neck is mere inches away, and, mesmerized, Yuuri leans up to kiss it.

He can feel the way it makes Viktor swallow, and that eggs him on. He kisses slowly up his neck, ending at the swollen scent gland, driven by need to know what he tastes like.

“Yuuri,” Viktor says, wrecked and soft, as Yuuri nibbles at the skin there.

It’s only when Viktor starts to pull away that Yuuri’s brain catches up. He isn’t sure what’s happening—rut has not begun yet!—but he’s not willing to turn this down. Yuuri follows him, grabs on to the front of his shirt, and gives him an open-mouthed kiss, straddling his lap.

When the movie pauses at the end of the credits and starts to loop the menu, they’re still kissing. Viktor’s hands grip Yuuri’s waist and Yuuri has wormed his way into Viktor’s shirt to grope that exquisite chest. Yuuri feels like he’s the one going into heat, the blood in his veins pumping so hot.

“Wow,” Viktor says as he pulls away, flushed and breathless.

“Wow,” Yuuri echoes. He rubs his thumb over Viktor’s raised nipple; they’re so _pink._

Viktor tilts Yuuri’s chin up to scent his neck, leaving a trail of sucking kisses. Yuuri wishes he’d sink his teeth in. Service alphas aren’t trained to offer this kind of thing, how does Viktor have any right to be so good at it?

_He has a choice of any omega, remember?_

“I can already tell this is going to be the best rut I’ve ever had,” Viktor says.

Other ruts, other partners. Ever the possessive beast, Yuuri feels a roil of jealousy in his gut. Viktor shouldn’t be talking about other men while Yuuri is in his lap. Yuuri grinds down against the arousal he feels there, and kisses him passionately, nipping at his lower lip. Mine, mine, mine, he cheers.

As Viktor’s hands slide down to cup Yuuri’s ass, it feels like he’s slipped into a heat haze again, desperate and needy.

“I’ve wanted to do this _forever_ ,” Viktor says, returning the favor and pressing a wet kiss to the scent gland on Yuuri’s neck, tasting him.

If Yuuri doesn’t get his outfit on soon he doesn’t think he’ll be able to. _For Viktor,_ he pledges, pulling away, every inch of distance painful.

“Viktor,” he says, breathy, “one moment, okay? I have to get something, I’ll be right back.”

Viktor’s grip on his ass tightens, possessive, then relaxes with obvious struggle. “Right back,” he repeats.

“Yes.” Dizzy and aroused, Yuuri hurries to Viktor’s room to put on his gear. He leaves the door open to reassure him he isn’t going anywhere, then starts peeling out of his clothes and tossing them near his suitcase. As he’s pulling off his underwear he sees Viktor in the doorway, watching.

The outfit looks like a lace octopus as he pulls it out of the bag, and he’s very glad he practiced putting it on, because Viktor’s gaze doesn’t waver from his body as he locks in each individual strap: thighs first, then around his chest, neck, and finally wrists.

Viktor’s seen him very naked and desperate before, so Yuuri’s rock-hard cock and slick-stained thighs shouldn’t be embarrassing. “Okay,” Yuuri says, voice small, “you can touch now.”

He’s half expecting to be thrown to the bed and ravished right there, but Viktor surprises him by striding forward and capturing his mouth. Yuuri lets himself be claimed, submitting to this new, much more dominant and possessive kiss. The outfit should help him feel more in character—costumes always have, for skating—but instead he feels more desperate.

While they’re kissing, Viktor rubs his bare wrists over more and more of Yuuri’s exposed skin, all across his back and thighs. Not a trace of the professional detachment from the spa remains as Viktor touches him, rubbing over his nipples and gripping the meat of his ass, exploring. Yuuri feels precome gathering at the tip of his cock and whines into the kiss.

“You, um, looks like you skipped pre-rut, huh?” He tries.

No response except Viktor casually picking him up off the floor; Viktor’s still fully clothed and their pose causes Yuuri to smear his hard cock against the fabric of his shirt. “Ah!”

Rather than being thrown on the bed, he’s set down gently; before he can adjust his legs are being spread apart and the scent glands on his thighs are being massaged through the mesh, firmly manipulated by Viktor’s skilled thumbs. Yuuri’s scent leaks out, eclipsed by arousal.

He wants Viktor to touch his cock. He wants Viktor to fuck him, to knot him. _This isn’t about me!_ Yuuri thinks, trying to focus. Viktor’s gaze is so hot on his skin. His silver eyelashes are so _pretty_.

Yuuri runs his fingers through Viktor’s hair; massaging his scalp and carding through the soft silver strands, desperate to calm him down so he can start to take care of him. A service omega would know how to help.

Alphas in rut need reassurance that their partner is pleased. “This feels so good. Um, Can you get out of your clothes for me too?”

Viktor strips and tosses his clothing over his shoulder, blue eyes still on Yuuri. When he pulls off his underwear—a black thong—Yuuri’s mouth waters at the sight of his gorgeous cock. In the constraints of their earlier interactions, he’s never had a taste.

“Thank you,” Yuuri says, and pleasure blooms over Viktor’s face. He opens his arms and Viktor takes the hint, climbing up into the bed. Yuuri flips their positions and takes a place between Viktor’s thighs. “Can I suck you off?”

Flushed and sweating, Viktor spreads his legs and nods; apparently when rut takes him, his words go away too, just like Yuuri’s do in heat.

Viktor’s circumcised, and the flared head of his cock is pink and full. He doesn’t have a ton of experience but he knows he loves giving head, and he’s so eager to get his mouth on Viktor.

Yuuri gives his cock a few teasing licks to start, tasting his skin, tracing the edges. He’s been dreaming of pleasuring Viktor this way since they met. Hand coming to rest in the dark silver curls at the base of his erection, Yuuri settles in on his elbows and takes his time tasting the clean skin of his arousal.

When he’s finally satisfied, Yuuri starts to take him further into his mouth. The girth is so much that Yuuri has to stretch his jaw wide to accommodate the tip, but it’s worth it for the way Viktor moans and his whole cock twitches. Yuuri suckles on just the head, pressing his tongue into the slit just and massaging the scent glands on Viktor’s inner thighs.

Viktor, debauched and panting against the pillows, fists his hand in Yuuri’s hair and gasps. The grip isn’t painful, even when he’s so obviously desperate, and Yuuri’s heart swells further. Viktor deserves the best; complete perfection. He wants to go for the gold in pleasing him.

Encouraged, Yuuri continues, using his saliva to smooth the way as he strokes the base of Viktor’s cock with his hands. He pays special attention to the fleshy, deflated knot at the base, tightening his grip there on each pass. It’s doubtful that Yuuri can swallow all of Viktor’s massive cock, but he tries, bobbing his head and sucking deeper and deeper, determination fueling him. Viktor’s making such sweet sounds, and the scent of his arousal is undeniable proof that _Yuuri_ is the one making him feel that way. He is going to give Viktor everything he wants.

Viktor’s hand in his hair is tight but not controlling. When he feels Viktor’s thighs tensing, he pulls off to lick up the thick vein on the underside, and to mouth at his full balls. They taste of Viktor, masculine and heavy; primed for rut.

When Yuuri swallows his cock down again, Viktor lets go of his hair in favor of fisting the sheets, babbling praises. Yuuri vows to train his gag reflex further, since he sadly can’t take Viktor as far into his throat as he’d like to. He soldiers on, world focused down to making Viktor feel good.

Viktor’s close—he can feel it in the way he tenses, in the way his breathing has changed—and Yuuri is startled when Viktor pushes him away. A strand of saliva runs from Viktor’s cock to his swollen lips.

What?

“Don’t—want to knot—your mouth,” Viktor says, haggard.

Yuuri kind of wants it. But this isn’t about him. “Okay,” he says, crawling up over Viktor’s body to kiss his lips.

Viktor’s too keyed up for kissing. He flips their positions and Yuuri instinctually spreads his thighs. Even with no preparation and Viktor’s impressive size, Yuuri’s aroused enough that he can—wants to—take it all. “Viktor,” he begs, holding on to his knees and shamelessly putting his wet hole on display. He’s dripping and eager.

Instead of fucking him, Viktor puts his palm on Yuuri’s lower stomach and leans in. Yuuri has to fight not to immediately come as Viktor takes his entire cock into his mouth with one smooth move.

“Viktor!” He scolds. “This isn’t about me!”

Viktor’s mouth is hot and his tongue is talented; just the sight of the silver head of hair between his thighs overheats him. Viktor uses many of the same tricks Yuuri had just been, playing with his slit and swallowing around him. Yuuri bucks into his mouth and clutches at the sheets for dear life. When Viktor’s strong hands massage his swollen scent glands through the mesh, he comes with a shout in Viktor’s mouth.

Blissed out, dazed, and a little mad, he lays on the sheets and tries to breathe through it. How did Viktor just do that!? Looking like a pleased cat who just got all the cream, shows him no mercy, moving to suck at his inner thigh’s scent gland, then the other, soaking the outfit.

He absolutely needs Viktor to fuck him _right now_. Holding his knees and spreading legs even more, he starts to beg, shamelessly. “Viktor, please, I _need you,_ I—“

Instead of taking him, Viktor licks into his wet hole. Yuuri’s cock is hard again, painfully, ludicrously fast, even for an omega. He’s never had anyone come close to doing this, never even considered it desirable, but now, in a cloud of lust, Viktor’s tongue feels so good at his rim that tears form in the corners of his eyes. His heart beats hummingbird-fast in his chest and time stretches out into haze as Viktor plays with his hole. It’s maddening, having something inside him just enough to tease what he really wants, but not enough to give him any friction, and stretch. “Please, please, please,” he begs, breathless.

It’s only when he feels like he’s going to come apart at the seams _again_ that Viktor pulls away.

“Okay, darling,” he says, adjusting Yuuri’s weak limbs until he’s shivering on all-fours on the bed. Finally, finally, Viktor’s going to fuck him.

The massive head of his erection against Yuuri’s entrance is a tease. Viktor rubs himself there, gathering slick and teasing full penetration. Yuuri pushes his cheek into the sheets and tries to breathe through it when Viktor finally starts to fuck his way in, shallow at first. This pose is considered easiest for taking a knot, so Yuuri knows full well what’s coming, and he wants it. Even just Viktor’s length stretches him wider than he’s ever been, a knot would be—incredible, terrifying. Yuuri will gladly be destroyed by it, if it gives Viktor pleasure. His cock is warm, completely bare, skin on intimate skin; there’s no comparison to the silicone toys. Being fucked raw is superior.

He’s moaning so much he’s drooling to the sheets, sloppy and uncaring. Each thrust of Viktor’s incredible cock goes deeper inside him, and just when he expects Viktor to bottom out, there’s more. It’s bliss. When the heavy weight of Viktor’s balls finally slap against his ass, when he’s fully sheathed, Yuuri swears he can feel him all the way up to his ribs. His legs tremble uncontrollably.

Viktor pauses there, stuffed inside him, and leans over to suck and nibble at his covered scent glands. Yuuri comes again with a scream, untouched, into the sheets below.

His pleasure only drives Viktor’s higher. He grabs Yuuri’s hips to hold them steady as he relentlessly fucks him, pulling out completely and slamming back in. With a cock that big it doesn’t take any angling to hit Yuuri’s prostate, which is oversensitive with release. Yuuri can only breathe and take it, every deep thrust, going on and on and on. When the base of Viktor’s cock starts to swell that telltale swell, Viktor lifts him up, pulling him backwards into his lap and shallowly fucking him there. As his knot pops to fullness, Viktor bites down on his covered scent gland, and Yuuri can feel it as his cock twitches with gush after gush of thick cum inside, filling him with Viktor’s semen. His orgasm keeps on going, long past what Yuuri would have thought possible, kept in place by the thick knot.

Yuuri is _certain_ his birth control is properly in place, but he’s so thoroughly overwhelmed and claimed. Surely, he’ll be pregnant from this.

He comes again, speared on Viktor’s cock, with Viktor’s mouth on his neck.

* * *

Yuuri’s memory is patchy after that. Viktor fucks him from what feels like every angle, and knotting over and over. Viktor spends more time buried inside him that first night than he does outside. He’s half-expecting to cough up semen, Viktor has filled him with so much. Alpha biology is incredible and ridiculous.

The next morning he wakes to Viktor’s strong arms curled around him and a half-stiff cock pressed against his ass; Viktor himself is still asleep but his body remains interested. Yuuri licks his own dry lips and frets about how bad of a job he’s been doing at keeping them hydrated.

So much for a service omega. Yuuri’s been putty in his hands from the start.

Today, he’ll do better. He has to. With Viktor wrapped around him, it’s really difficult, but Yuuri tries to shift away inch by inch, intent on brushing his teeth and getting them both water. His leg muscles and back protest loudly with every movement. He doesn’t make it far before Viktor tightens his grip and pulls him back in.

“Viktor,” he whispers.

The alpha whines, possessive even while asleep.

If Viktor wakes, Yuuri will be knotted again; which he wants, despite his poor sore ass, he really does. But then he won’t be able to take care of Viktor.

Okay, another plan, then. His back still to Viktor’s front, Yuuri begins to rub him off, nice and slow. Viktor can have a nice orgasm while asleep, and then Yuuri can slip away.

Yuuri feels himself get hard just from the act of giving him a handjob, which is perverted and pathetic. Viktor’s naked body is still pressed against him, so who can really blame him, though.

It takes some time before Viktor is lazily rutting into his fist, but Yuuri’s patient. He varies his grip and speed, and makes sure the head of his cock is tucked between Yuuri’s cheeks; since he seems to really enjoy that. Viktor comes against him in thick white spurts, the first time he’s ejaculated outside of Yuuri’s body since this started.

When he finally relaxes in post-orgasmic bliss, Yuuri seizes the moment. He hobbles to the bathroom and brushes his teeth, avoiding his reflection in the mirror. It’s a little gross, but like omegas, alphas prefer their partner to smell like them during mating, so he merely wipes off his sore hole and splashes a little water on his face.

Three days, Viktor had said. It’s been maybe 12 hours. God.

Yuuri gathers an armful of bottled water from the fridge and brings them to Viktor’s bower. He drains one entirely, then crawls back into Viktor’s arms holding another one, which he presses against his pale cheek.

“Ah!” Viktor blinks in the sunlight, gaze a little more clear. He grabs the bottle. “Oh. Thank you, Yuuri.”

“Drink,” Yuuri says, after a while of Viktor just holding the bottle and staring. His voice is rough.

Viktor drinks the full bottle. Yuuri watches his adam’s apple as he swallows.

“I know you said you don’t normally eat during, but you should if you can.”

Viktor blinks at him. “Okay.”

Yuuri cheers internally. He knows he must move quickly before his rut comes back full-force, so in an appeal to Viktor’s caring nature, he adds, “I’m hungry too.”

That does the trick. Viktor helps him up and they wobble, naked, to the kitchen. Yuuri hands Viktor one of the simple meal bars (premium and organic from the fancy grocery) and watches him eat the entire thing before starting his own.

The kitchen windows have gauzy curtains that let in the morning sunlight, bathing the picture-perfect scene in a warm glow. In the light, Yuuri can see the marks he’s left on Viktor’s skin, small bruises and kissmarks. It’s very, very attractive: Viktor, claimed.

“I didn’t realize how different it would be,” Viktor says. “I’m so glad to spend this with you, Yuuri.”

“Different?” Yuuri asks.

“Sharing my rut.” Viktor runs his hand through his hair. “My last partnered ruts were with service omegas; it’s valuable training if I’m going to inherit the business someday, you know. Sharing it with someone you— someone you’re in a relationship with, it’s incredible.”

That’s a lot to unpack. Yuuri opens his mouth, closes it. “Your, um, business?” He tries, dealing with that first.

“Oh! Yes, my family owns the chain of omega spas I work at. Did I not mention that?”

“You didn’t.” Viktor’s family owns the most high-end, widely available omega spa? “So you’re not training to be a service alpha, you’re going to run the whole thing?”

Yuuri doesn’t have to _share him?_

“I need to have a solid understanding of the job if I can hope to run it effectively, yes.” Viktor’s smile turns tentative. “Is that okay?”

“Very okay,” Yuuri says empathetically.

“Good.”

“And we’re dating,” Yuuri says, testing it out. Sure, they’ve been spending a lot of time together. Viktor took him out for coffee, for dinner, for walks, and Yuuri returned the favor. They get along quite well, both love poodles and skating.

“I suppose we haven’t actually discussed—“ Viktor starts, sounding stressed.

Yuuri walks forward and wraps his arms around him. “We’re dating,” he agrees firmly. “I want to spend every rut with you.”

Viktor hugs him back. They don’t make it back to the bedroom until much later, because Viktor has him right there in the kitchen, and again in the hallway.

He’s so _happy._

* * *

“Go Yuuri! Go!! You’re so beautiful!”

Gravity takes him as he lands the jump, and Yuuri turns to face the blurry figure of his boyfriend. Without his glasses on, he relies on sound. Yuuri waves in his direction and smiles.

“I have to say, Yuuri, that your skating has had a marked improvement since I returned from vacation. Love suits you well.” Celestino says.

Yuuri blushes. His skating really has been better, with Viktor. That is, once he was finally able to walk again post-rut.

“Thank you, Celestino-sensei.” _It’s all thanks to you insisting I get laid,_ he doesn’t add out loud.

“I think we can wrap up early today. Fantastic job.” Celestino ruffles his hair. “Go tell your boyfriend he shouldn’t bring his dog into the rink.”

What? Oh. He can see Makkachin’s curly fur peeking over the rink barrier. “I will!”

“Have fun!” Celestino waves.

Yuuri waves back over his shoulder, already completely focused on and skating towards his beautiful, amazing, perfect boyfriend. “Viktor!”

**Author's Note:**

> A sketchy doodle of the service omega attire: [link](https://twitter.com/buttercup_yoi/status/1296887155357294592?s=20%22)


End file.
